Tekhenu: Obelisk of the Sun – Board Game Review

by | May 17, 2025 | Board Game Reviews, Reviews

I have a bit of a history with designer Daniele Tascini. I bounced off Teotihuacan years ago (although can’t quite remember why), and while I initially disliked Tzolk’in: The Mayan Calendar, I have to admit that it has grown on me more each time I’m coerced into playing it. Tascini’s games tend to feel like intense cerebral puzzles. Dense and demanding, but rewarding to those willing to put the work in to gain some mastery. So when I sat down to play Tekhenu: Obelisk of the Sun, I braced myself. Would it push me away again, or pull me in?

Tekhenu game board with a brown obelisk on a brown board with white, yellow, brown, and black dice surrounding it.

Let’s start with the obvious: Tekhenu: Obelisk of the Sun is a looker. A towering plastic obelisk dominates the board, casting a literal shadow across the action spaces, and in doing so, dictates which dice are pure, tainted, or outright forbidden. It’s an immediate table presence, big and weird in the best way. It kind of serves a gameplay purpose, but it kind of feels like it just exists to create that table presence. As the sun shifts (the obelisk rotates every two turns), so too does your ability to draft dice. This mechanic is actually a decent metaphor for the game as a whole, what’s good now won’t be good later. you’ll need to adapt, or be left behind.

The core loop of Tekhenu is a six-action dice drafting puzzle. Each turn, you take a die from around the spire, and either generate resources or activate the associated action space. The value of the die affects how many resources you gain or the potency of the action you’ll take. Adding to that, each die also has moral weight, giving your soul points toward the pure or tainted side, and must be placed on your karmic scales before the end of the round. Lean too far toward imbalance, and the game will punish you. Strive for harmony, and you’re rewarded with points. It’s a clever twist that keeps you constantly recalibrating all of your decisions.

And you’ll need to be constantly adapting. Tekhenu is a game about forward planning in a system that refuses to cooperate. That perfect plan you spent 10 minutes building? Gone, because the die you desperately needed turned forbidden, or someone else snatched it first. Tekhenu demands backup plans, backup backup plans, and when all else fails, throwing caution to the wind and just taking the action that you gut says ‘feels best’. It’s a brain-burning experience that constantly asks you to throw your plans out and pivot.

Tekhenu game with purple and blue pillars

The actions will have you building statues for passive bonuses, erecting pillars in a shared temple grid, expanding your city with buildings that boost your income and end-game scoring, and throwing lavish festivals to increase the happiness of your population. There’s a card market featuring cards that give you either end-game scoring benefits, or ongoing gameplay effects, and your ability to access those cards is tied directly to how happy your people are. The interconnectivity of the actions here is impressive, like a gear from Tzolk’in, everything touches everything else. Make one good decision, and it pays dividends. Make a bad one, and the whole thing wobbles like a Jenga tower.

I don’t think there’s that much theme to the actions here, but I don’t really mind. It’s Ancient Egypt in aesthetics only, lots of sandy browns and beiges on the board, but that boring-ness is offset by bright player pieces in purple, pink, orange, and blue. The dice are chunky and satisfying, and the graphic design of the board helps players compartmentalize the actions very well. Tekhenu has a rhythm, every four turns, there’s a karmic Maat phase. After two Maat phases, a scoring round. Then repeat, and the game is over. This cadence, once learned, feels smooth and intuitive.

Tekhenu game board with dice and lots of player pieces around it

By the end of each game, I was exhausted, and impressed. Tekhenu is one of those games that doesn’t show you its brilliance upfront. You need to unearth it’s brilliance. At first, it feels like a mashup of mechanics you’ve seen before. But over time you start to feel the harmony. If you like games where you’re constantly wrestling with your own plans, desperately trying to keep Plan A alive while Plan B, C, and D scramble into action, Tekhenu is for you. It’s crunchy. It’s tough. And it’s immensely satisfying. It’s my favourite game from the T-series, but I’m alone in that opinion. Everyone who’s played this with me prefers Teotihuacan or Tzolk’in, but that’s okay. They’re all great games in their own right, and I’m just happy that I found one that really sings to me!

0 Comments

Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Recent Posts

Lord of the Rings Fatigue: When Is Too Much of an IP a Bad Thing?

Lord of the Rings Fatigue: When Is Too Much of an IP a Bad Thing?

Ever since Embracer group acquired Middle Earth Enterprises, it feels like a deluge of Lord of the Rings games have hit the marketplace. In just the past few years there’s been The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers Trick-Taking Game,The Lord of the Rings: Duel for Middle-earth, There’s The Lord of the Rings: Fate of the Fellowship, You’ve got heavier titles like The Lord of the Rings: Foes of Middle-earth and The Lord of the Rings: Journeys in Middle-earth. And then there are others ,The Lord of the Rings: The Adventure Book Game, Exit: The Lord of the Rings, Spot It! The Lord of the Rings, and more! All these games circling the same source material, each trying to carve out its own little piece of Tolkien’s world.

At some point, I start to wonder: when does one of my favourite IPs being in a game stop being exciting and is actively hurting my intrest in it?

Kronologic: Paris 1920 – Board Game Review

Kronologic: Paris 1920 – Board Game Review

Last week I wrote about Turing Machine, a deduction puzzle that fascinated me with its cardboard computer but ultimately left me a little cold with the multiplayer experience. This week I’m talking about designers Fabien Gridel and Yoann Levet’s follow-up game, Kronologic: Paris 1920. It turns out the same designers have taken some of those clever ideas and turned them into something that feels much more like a game you’d actually want to sit down and play with other people.

Why do People Rate Games a “1”?

Why do People Rate Games a “1”?

Why do people give a game a 1 on BoardGameGeek?

It’s a question I’ve been mulling over for years, and one that tends to pop into my head whenever I’m browsing an upcoming release and trying to get a sense of what people are thinking. I scroll past the preview images, maybe skim a few comments, and then my eyes drift over to the rating… only to see that bar graph with a giant foot, the 1 ratings outnumbering every other number by a large margin. Also, why the heck are there ratings on this game if it isn’t even out yet? These 1s aren’t low scores from disappointed players, they aren’t thoughtful critiques explaining why something didn’t land. These 1s feel more of a punishment than anything else. And I always find myself wondering: what is that number actually trying to say?